THE FIRST MEN IN THE MOON
glance over his shoulder, and heard him shriek as he ran aside out of my way into the darkness. He was, I think, our guide, but I am not sure. Then in another vast stride the walls of rock had come into view on either hand, and in two more strides I was in the tunnel, and tempering my pace to its low roof. I went on to a bend, then stopped and turned back, and plug, plug, plug, Cavor came into view, splashing into the stream of blue light at every stride, and grew larger and blundered into me. We stood clutching each other. For a moment, at least, we had shaken off our captors and were alone.
We were both very much out of breath. We spoke in panting, broken sentences.
"You spoiled it all!" panted Cavor.
"Nonsense," I cried. "It was that or death."
"'What are we to do?"
"Hide."
"'How can we?"
"It's dark enough."
"But where?"
"Up one of these side caverns."
"And then?"
"Think."
"Right—come on."
We strode on, and presently came to a radiating, dark cavern. Cavor was in front. He hesitated, and chose a black mouth that seemed to promise good hiding. He went towards it and turned.
"It's dark," he said.
"Your legs and feet will light us. You're wet with that luminous stuff."
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